Know You Well Enough
by cynassa
Summary: So there's a witch killing unattached men. In bars in the worst part of town. They've got a plan but Dean really doesn't like it. Quote: Cas has his right hand resting firmly on Dean's back. So maybe they're in a gay bar and they're pretending to be boyfr- together. But the touchy-feely stuff can go take a hike. Pairing: Dean/Castiel.


The only reason Dean doesn't tense up further is because he's already as tense as can be. Place is a fucking dive bar, the only lights are dirty lightbulbs that hide more than they show (and maybe that's the fucking point) and the guys look like they're here to fight, not fuck (and maybe they are).

And Cas has his right hand resting firmly on Dean's back. So maybe they're in a gay bar and they're pretending to be boyfr- _together_. But the touchy-feely stuff can go take a hike.

"He needs to be aware that you are here with me, Dean and it is best if we do not separate. As such, keeping in physical contact is our best option." Cas never says, 'stop pouting, you are not five,' but his tone says it loud and clear.

They've done a round of the place, not like there's anything to it. A front-room the size of their motel bathroom, smaller toilet, and the dingy back-alley filled with men. Castiel hasn't gotten any hint of the magic that's killed two men and almost killed a third. Dean pulls up a chair in the corner opposite the door, so he can keep an eye on it, and beckons for a beer. Cas won't have any, pleasures of the flesh too human for him now that the war's won.

"Here you go, honey," the waiter says. Tall dark guy, with dark eyes. Objectively good-looking. Dean pretends to give him a lookover but yeah, still not gay.

"Got my own honey here, wouldn't like to get him mad." Dean says, pasting on an apologetic smile and tilting his head at Castiel on the other side of the table. Waiter-guy's eyes fall on Castiel. He gives Castiel a lookover and a slow smile and Dean is viciously glad when Castiel returns the look with a politely uncomprehending one. The one that is absolutely fake. When Castiel's eyes turn to him, he gulps down the beer to hide the expression on his face.

"Going to get another," Dean says, holding up his empty bottle, because he needs just five bloody minutes out of Castiel's orbit.

"Dean, no," Castiel says sharply. But Dean's already gone and he knows Castiel won't risk using his powers yet. He's at the counter and debating actually having more beer as opposed to y'know being professional and not getting killed, when he senses he's being watched. He turns his back to the counter and there's this guy touching him. Almost at the same moment, Castiel is at his right side; the stranger's smile turns into a snarl as soon as he sees Castiel.

Castiel grabs him and they're outside in a moment. But the guy follows. Dean knows, with growing horror, that the guy's following _him._

"He is mine," Castiel says. That is the last thing Dean hears before the sound of a hundred bees fill his ears and his body isn't under his control anymore. He's hard, he thinks, and 'this must be what being possessed is like'. His phone's ringing in his pocket, probably Sam but he can't move. Then his surroundings turn black.

/

"I'll take your word for it, shall I?" the man says. Only, now his hair is gone and his eyes have gone from brown to a slitted green. Not a witch- a creature that very carefully planned its kills to look like a witch's work. Of course the pretense of a relationship will not fool it, not like a witch would be fooled. In this dark alley, his vessel's eyes cannot see enough to be sure what it is.

"I have a better plan." it continues, its nails becoming pointed claws and skin withering and twisting to look like the bark of some ancient tree. "He's mine, and my teeth ache to sink into him." The thing smiles, or some grotesque imitation of it.

Castiel is quiet. As still as no creature on God's earth can be. The creature's death won't remove his hold on Dean, Castiel is certain. The parasitic energy is in Dean now.

"Well? Don't you like my plan?" the creature asks but Castiel won't play its game. It looks briefly angry then reaches forward to touch Dean with a claw. Castiel moves instinctively to throw it to the end of the alley.

It sits up and laughs, not even slightly hurt, "Don't like that, do you? Here's another option. Swear to let me walk free, and have your friend leave me alone and I'll give him over to you. That's my final bid, take it or leave it."

Castiel's sworn word would bind him and they would have to let the creature go free on its abominable path. Maybe it is the fact that the Winchesters have taught him that every single life is precious, that prevents him from taking the deal. Maybe it is the fact that in two years, he has seen them do what he thought impossible over and over again that makes him certain that there must be some other way. Maybe it is that he spread his Grace over Dean's broken soul in Hell, put all the pieces back together and smoothed out the ragged edges; he does have a claim on Dean. Or maybe he's just desperate.

Whatever it is that makes him do it, he kneels down and presses his hand to fit into the print on Dean's shoulder and then says, "Dean, accept my claim." Dean doesn't even stir from his curled-up position, with his hands over his ears. The creature snarls and comes towards Castiel and Castiel doesn't have the time to figure out how to bind it.

A shot rings out from behind him and Sam's here, "I've got it, you do what you need Cas." The creature runs toward Sam who shoots again but the shots are an annoyance, not a permanent solution.

"Dean, please," Castiel begs with all that is in him. Dean moves his hands just a little and Castiel's hand fits into the mark he made and warmth flows through him.

Dean's eyes snap open, "Cas?" he croaks.

My Lord, thank you, Castiel prays. He captures the strands of spells trying to weave their way into Dean again and looks up at the snarling thing that no longer has any resemblance to humankind, "My claim is prior." The death is quick and painless. Castiel has never felt joy at death, killing may be necessary for his Father's work but it is nothing pleasurable. Nevertheless, if he were ever capable of rejoicing in death, it would be now.

"Was that thing what we were hunting?" Sam asks, "Because we should really get out of here."

They haul up Dean and make a run for it. Dean is not well enough to drive so he takes shotgun and Castiel's in the backseat.

"So…uh, what happened?" Sam asks, glancing at Dean.

"That thing was draining those guys." Dean says. Then says nothing more. Castiel feels a rush of familiar anger at Dean's avoidance. They have been dancing around this for long enough.

"The victims were unattached because the beast could not overtake prior claims to feed." Castiel says and coolly looks back when Dean glares at him through the rear-view mirror.

"Prior claim?" Sam asks carefully. The tremble of laughter in his voice still comes out though.

"Good for saving asses and extra pizza. Your back-from-the-dead angel Gabriel give you one when he grabbed you? Or during your pajama parties?" Dean asks.

It amuses Castiel somewhat to read Sam's expressions. His brow furrows as he considers whether to tease Dean further, his nostrils flare when he recalls precisely how many 'pajama parties' Gabriel and he have had and his mouth drags down unhappily as he decides it isn't worth it.

Mostly, Castiel is just exasperated at the triumph on Dean's face.

/

"You've been avoiding me." Castiel intones.

"Cas, man. I'm in the shower." Dean yelps, and grabs for the towel.

"I am aware. Since you ran away wherever I tried to talk to you, I thought it would be best to find you where you would have to stay," he doesn't add, 'and behave like an adult for a change.'

"Come on, man. You want to talk you go to Sam. I'm no good at that." Dean says impatiently; he has a nasty feeling about this.

"Dean, I love you." Castiel says. His voice is gentler than he meant it to be. It makes no difference because Dean looks broken for a moment, wide-eyed and needy.

Dean breathes out slowly and looks away, "Cas, dude, I'm not gay."

"And I am not male," Castiel replies. He had hoped…but Dean is never as simple as he likes to pretend.

Dean's shaking his head, "You don't know…," and then he shrugs and says, "That what you meant to say? We done here?"

Castiel knows that he is being dismissive on purpose, he knows Dean too well to be hurt. "Did you really think that there is anything I don't know about you?" he asks and fleetingly, Dean looks needy again. This time Castiel grabs him by both shoulders and touches the tip of his nose with his own so that Dean is forced to look into his eyes. He lets Dean see, as well as possible within the limitations of this flesh, that he is being honest.

"I will not leave you. You must have faith." Castiel says fiercely.

Dean says, "Okay. Okay, I'll try. I can't promise I'll do it but I'll try," and it's obvious from his face that he finds it a pathetically inadequate return for what Castiel is offering.

Castiel assures him, "That is enough for me. You are more than enough for me."

Dean wants to say as much and it's true but he doesn't know how. So he leans down to kiss Castiel. It's a chaste brush of lips but touching Castiel- allowing himself to touch, finally- soothes him and turns him on. He leans back against the wall and tries to calm down.

Castiel looks at him thoughtfully for a moment. Then he reaches out and uncurls Dean's fingers, one by one, where they're clutching the towel together. The towel hits the floor. Dean moans at the heat in Castiel's eyes and spreads his legs out in invitation.

Castiel grasps his dick and gently strokes. "I am unaware of the proper procedure for this," Castiel informs him and it is sort of true- having Cas touch him is amazing but this won't get him off.

"Aren't you hard?" he asks. He's got an idea.

Castiel looks up briefly and says, "I appear to be." He sounds almost… surprised.

"Come here," Dean says. He shifts them so that Castiel is leaning against the wall and takes the chance to kiss him again, wet and dirty this time. He leans his entire body against Castiel, putting their dicks in contact and Castiel lets out a surprised moan that makes Dean grin.

Then they're rutting against each other and kissing for as long as Dean has breath for it. Castiel's movements are jerky and he still has that look of concentration on his face, as if he has to do this right.

Dean says, "Come on, I got you," he swipes his tongue across Castiel's right ear and then bites at it gently and Castiel's movements turn frantic. When he turns his face just enough to lick Castiel's cheek Castiel shudders and comes, groaning. Dean's watching the blissful look on Cas' face when he follows suit.

* * *

It's official. I have written the most clichéd fic in fandom. I'm not even sorry. Just wish the porn was hotter.

Prompt was:

made-of-win-chester asked you:

Hmmm, here's a prompt; Dean has to pretend to be Castiel's boyfriend for a case. So, this leads to confessions of love on both sides and first time sex :3

I hope you liked it. Thanks for being such a sweetheart and prompting me.


End file.
